SOPHIE THE HEIRESS

RELATIONSHIP COME AND GO

Relationship Come and Go

Young Sophie...

Sophie leaned against the balcony railing of her family's hanok, gazing out at the lush fields stretching beyond the horizon. It was dusk, and the sky was painted in shades of orange and pink. She sighed deeply, her thoughts drifting to her latest breakup.

It had been quick—just like the others. A few months of dating, charming dinners, laughter, and then that familiar nagging feeling. The feeling that something wasn't aligning with her vision of life.

For Sophie, relationships were a part of growing up, a way to learn about herself, her desires, and her boundaries. But once the puzzle pieces stopped fitting, she didn't hesitate to break things off. She believed in clarity. If someone wasn't meeting her standards, wasn't on the same wavelength, she couldn't force it. It wasn't worth the compromise.

She thought back to her most recent ex, a kind and driven man, but the spark had faded faster than either of them had expected. Sophie had ended it in the middle of a late-night conversation, the words slipping from her lips as naturally as any other.

"I just don't think this is right for me anymore," she had said, her voice steady.

He had looked at her with a mixture of confusion and hurt. "But we were fine just yesterday."

"We were," she agreed, "but I'm not the same person I was yesterday. I've grown, and it feels like we're heading in different directions."

She had grown used to the look—the mix of disbelief and disappointment. But Sophie never let it linger. She refused to settle for anything that didn't align with her goals, her dreams, or her pace of life. She was driven, like her family's business. SOperbK had set the standard for quality and precision, and Sophie applied the same rigor to her personal life.

Sophie had always been this way, even in university. While her friends were finding long-term partners, she treated dating like an experiment, always seeking growth, clarity, and self-awareness. Every breakup had been initiated by her. Some thought she was too cold, others admired her decisiveness. For Sophie, it was neither; it was simply necessary.

Her friends often teased her, especially Annie and Lev. "Another one bites the dust?" they would joke. Sophie would just smile, shrugging it off.

I'm just not interested in wasting time," she'd reply, but deep down, she knew there was more to it. Sophie feared becoming trapped in a relationship that didn't make her heart race, that didn't challenge her to be better. She wanted someone who could keep up with her, who would make her feel alive in every moment. Anything less wasn't worth it.

As the last traces of sunlight dipped behind the mountains, Sophie's phone buzzed. A message from Patricia: "How are you holding up after the breakup?"

Sophie smiled at the message, appreciating the concern. She quickly typed back: "I'm fine, you know me. Life moves forward, and so do I."

And that was Sophie's philosophy. If it didn't align with her vision, her needs, or her growth, she moved on without hesitation. It wasn't about being heartless; it was about staying true to herself. After all, Sophie knew what she wanted—and she was willing to wait for someone who could match her pace.

Clyde flopped onto the couch in their family's hanok, his casual attire contrasting sharply with the traditional decor of the room. Sophie was at the kitchen counter, idly sorting through a stack of magazines, her thoughts clearly preoccupied. The evening had been calm until Clyde's teasing broke the silence.

So," he started, leaning back with a mischievous grin, "did you make a guy cry again, Sophie? Your dating life is like your wardrobe—if you're done with it, you just switch it out for something new."

Sophie shot him an amused but weary glance. "I didn't make him cry," she replied, rolling her eyes. "We just weren't right for each other. The spark was gone."

Clyde laughed, shaking his head. "You're crazy, you know that? At this rate, you might as well just stay single. You keep breaking up with them like you're changing your clothes. Do you even give it a fair chance?"

Sophie shrugged, a half-smile tugging at her lips. "What can I do? If the spark is gone, it's gone. I'm not going to pretend otherwise. I'd rather be honest and move on than drag it out."

Clyde shook his head in disbelief. "Honestly, I think you're just scared of commitment. If you keep finding reasons to end things, maybe you should just stop dating altogether."

Sophie set down the magazine and turned to face him fully. "It's not about being scared. It's about being true to myself. If I'm not feeling it, I can't just pretend that I am. It's not fair to either of us."

Clyde sighed, giving her a sympathetic look. "I get it, but sometimes, I think you might be too quick to cut ties. Relationships take work, you know. Sometimes, you have to push through the rough patches."

Sophie leaned against the counter, her gaze thoughtful. "I know, Clyde. But it's also about being honest with ourselves. If something doesn't feel right, dragging it out doesn't help anyone. I want to be with someone who aligns with where I'm going and who makes me feel excited about the future."

Clyde gave a resigned nod. "Alright, alright. Just promise me you won't keep breaking hearts just because you don't feel the spark anymore. Not everyone can handle that."

Sophie chuckled softly. "I'll try. But I'm not going to settle for less than what I truly want. I think I owe it to myself—and to them—to be honest."

Clyde gave her a mock salute. "Fair enough. Just don't expect me to stop teasing you about it."

Sophie laughed. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

As they continued their playful banter, Sophie felt a sense of relief. Clyde's teasing was a reminder of the loving, supportive sibling bond they shared. While she was resolute about her approach to relationships, having Clyde's perspective helped her see that balance was important, even if her path was unconventional.

Until then, she was content in the present, always moving forward, always growing. For Sophie, that was enough.